


Potentia Consuetudinis - The Power of Intimacy

by Corny_Cheesecake



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Episode: s02e09 Shiizakana, Episode: s02e10 Naka-Choko, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-03
Updated: 2018-05-03
Packaged: 2018-05-24 12:58:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6154446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corny_Cheesecake/pseuds/Corny_Cheesecake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a Hannigram Fanfiction<br/>Dealing with the events of Shiizakana and Naka-choko and what could have happened in between the lines</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Well, now i did dig into some more INTIMATE stuff :-p  
> Sorry for evntual spelling-, grammar-, and comma mistakes; English isn't my first language and no one taught me where to put commas in English...  
> I'm happy to correct mistakes if they are sent in.  
> Also, check out my tumblr @ thehazelnut09.tumblr.com if you like. Lots of Hannibal there!
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, they are Thomas Harris' creation. I also included stuff from the episodes of the TV show Hannibal named above.

Will turns off the lamp standing on the cupboard next to the doorframe. The room is embraced in darkness, the only light coming from the stars outside producing ghostly shadows of Will's dogs. Their barking at the entrance door increases the tension, the anticipation while Will watches, observingly waiting in the darkness holding his shotgun, ready for whatever is coming for him.

 

Suddenly, the air is filled with glass shards and splintered wood as Randall Tier crashes through the window, clad in his cave bear skeleton suit engineered to complete the perfect predator - this is his design. Will recoils, protecting his eyes from the debris radiating from the origin of the collision, making him drop the rifle. In the blink of an eye he fidgets, freeing himself from temporal petrification. Within reach Will's fishing vest is lying on the floor, Will now reaching for the knife he keeps in a pocket. While the dogs keep barking furiously the fight begins: Randall Tier jumps towards Will in a giant leap, leaving the FBI's special consultant no other choice than to duck out of the way. Will does so by sliding under the predator, driving his knife upwards with full force. He can hear his accelerated heartbeat ringing in his ears, yet he moves with precision making it seem almost calm. He is in his element now though this time it's not just in his head. Anticipating Tier's next move Will rolls sideward, getting out of his opponent's reach. The man-become-beast is struck by the sudden flash of pain but nonetheless determined to finish his job of savaging Will Graham. As he lunges at his victim, blood starts dripping on the floor and once more the yet unhurt pray is able to escape. Bone-clad, the attacker crashes into the furniture like a cannonball causing more splinters of wood. Quickly, Will grabs Randall and smashes him against the floor while he is still perplex. Bone shatters and creaks with every hit of Will's fists until Randall Tier shifts his position throwing Will through the air. The investigator is sprawled on the floor as the ferocious beast is coming for him.

 

The world around is constricted to the two bodies rolling over the floor with effort, entangled in a fight man to man, using their hands trying to put an end to each other's life. A sound of blows, screeches, and painful grunts is filling the air, all of a sudden being terminated by a loud crack coming from Randall Tier's neck. Will's face is wild, he is still clenching his teeth from having directed all his strength at his hands and knees that held Randall down. The idle movements meant to free himself from Will's claws have now faded to silence. Finally, Randall Tier has ceased to move averting his eyes while his consciousness dropped into nothingness.

 

Will, still panting from physical exhaustion, lowers himself next to the body, reclining and supporting his upper body with this arms. He is overcome by a feeling of power and satisfaction by having taken the opportunity to go through, to have killed. The cold, diffuse light from outside illuminates the corpse's skin in contrast to the dark wooden floor. Just for a second the image of Hannibal Lecter's face in place of Randall's flickers before Will's eyes. He killed the mercenary sent by Hannibal in a most intimate way, using nothing more than his hands. "This is my design", he thinks to himself, lost in thought and pleasant feelings. It seems weird though, feeling both hate and attraction towards this man who put Will through so much trouble and unspeakable sorrow, now having sent someone to kill him in return….and yet every time he spent with Hannibal felt familiar, even secure. After all, Hannibal was the one to unleash Will's dark side. He was there when Will felled Garrett Jacob Hobbs with a salve of bullets, when he first experienced this violence and power of terminating the life of someone who deserved punishment for his sins. Hannibal even taught Will to embrace feeling good by doing bad things to bad people.

 

Holding all that in mind, Will Graham drags Randall Tier's dead body outside, over the veranda towards his car. With a clicking sound it is unlocked and the corpse positioned in the trunk atop a plastic sheet Will usually carries with him to store his fishing gear and catch on. Before leaving, Will heads back inside looking after his dogs that now have calmed down. Curiously they pat towards their owner, sniffing and wheezing. Although Buster is on his legs again, Will starts cleaning and bandaging his wound, making delicate movements despite his bleeding knuckles and bruises. After having ensured Buster's well-being, he checks the water bowl and fills the feeding dish.

 

The sky is clear and alight with stars and a broad moon, making the air even more frigid as Will is driving through the snowy winter landscape towards Baltimore.

 

Classical music is coming from the speakers as Hannibal maneuvers his Bentley into his home's driveway. Above the severe stone walls the stars are glimmering in a blueish light, amplified by the completely light-reflecting snow. Hannibal Lecter gracefully crosses his front yard, then ascends the stairs in front of the carved, double winged wooden door. Out of the corner of his eye he notices - Will's car being parked nearby. The doors glide open without a sound after being unlocked and close just as silent, obscuring Hannibal from the outside. Determined he approaches the kitchen after smoothing his coat over a chair. Entering, he directs his eyes onto his dining table to the exact spot where a human body is sprawled - Randall Tier's corpse. The deceased's shape is still partly clad in bone armor and shows signs of a vicious fight. Surrounded by the tasteful furniture and decorations of Hannibal's dining room, the ensemble resembles an offering, now being inspected more closely by Hannibal circling the table. Keeping his face almost unreadable, the only detail betraying his composure and revealing how pleased he is are the corners of his mouth which are pointing upwards just ever so slightly, forming an inconspicuous smile. Will Graham took him by surprise, again. Of course this was what he had been working towards but hadn't considered a success so soon. Apparently he calculated correctly, driving Will towards killing and infiltrating the mind of this delicate empath.

Hannibal Lecter discovers a paper note pinned to the chest of the deceased, right below the obviously broken neck. 'Return to Sender' is echoing in Hannibal's mind as he notices a shadow protruding from darkness at the other end of the table. Under the doctor's steady gaze Will Graham approaches the tableau, breaking the silence. "I'd say this makes us even. I sent someone to kill you, you sent someone to kill me. Even-steven". they make eye contact, Hannibal nodding in agreement: "Consider it an act of reciprocity". Will, considering this matter has settled, returns the nod. Being well aware that Hannibal's high walls are crumbling this very moment, he yet wants to tread lightly, adding "Polite society normally puts such taboos on taking a life." Hannibal is now fully indulging in their game of morals, making his point: "Without death, we'd be at a loss. It's the prospect of death that drives us to greatness.", also showing his appreciation. Locking his gaze on the late visitor again, determined to make him state the obvious, to have him pouring out his soul in front of Hannibal, he asks the fundamental question: "Did you kill him with your hands?" Trying to obscure his face in order to protect himself from Hannibal's gaze that is making him feel naked, Will lowers his head, his voice decreased to a whisper: "It was…". He raises his hands, eyeing the bloody, bruised knuckles himself while reliving the fight in his mind "…very intimate". Proud of his achievements, the doctor strides towards Will in swift, elegant steps. Still approaching, he wants to show Will the right path, assuring him in his actions: "It deserves intimacy". Now standing next to Will, he leans in making Will feel the heat radiating from his body as he takes a look himself. "You were Randall Tier's final enemy" are his last words before he gently picks up Will's right hand with his own, steadying it with his left. Almost caressing the other's hand Hannibal thoroughly inspects the wounds.

 

Will Graham can feel his heartbeat quickening at Hannibal's words and touch, feeling at ease, feeling safe in the doctor's hands.

 

"Your wounds need cleaning. Bathing them will remove splinters and prevent infection, I'll be right back." With that, Hannibal looks into Will's eyes, turns, and leaves the kitchen. Remaining alone in the room, Will decides to take another look at his fresh kill. Slowly making his way around the laid out body, he remembers every move and incident leading to the wounds, to his victory, to him being in this place at the very moment. Satisfied he takes a seat at the end of the table, looking down on his achievement. Shortly after, Hannibal returns carrying a white porcelain bowl and a vintage looking first aid kit wrapped in leather. He has discarded his jacket and rolled up his white shirt sleeves showing off his wiry forearms. Without spilling any of the warm water in the bowl, he elegantly places it in front of Will who, too is laying down his coat now. "I added Epsom salt to the water. It will have a disinfecting effect and help remove the splinters", Hannibal is explaining as he tenderly submerges Will's hands in the water. Red blood is oozing from the torn flesh, spreading through the water in curly snakes, dissolving into a pink tint. Although Will's knuckles sting, he manages to keep his hands steady, closing his eyes at Hannibal's feather-light touch with a cotton cloth as he starts cleaning the wounds. Lost in thought again, Will opens his eyes staring absently into the room. "Don't go inside, Will. You'll want to retreat, you'll want it as the glint of the rails tempts us when we hear the approaching train", the doctor states, noticing Will's empty stare. He slowly directs his guest's hands out of the bath, drying them caringly before applying salve to the cuts and bruises, rubbing ointment into the open wounds, and starting to gently wrap them into gauze bandages. Will is at his mercy now, in his care and he wants to do his best for him, showing he's there for him, comforting him: "Stay with me" are his words. looking at Will who now turns towards him: "Where else would I go?" "You have everywhere to go. You should be quite pleased. I am." is Hannibal's answer. Will stares at Randall Tier's body that is still lying on the table. "Of course you are", he says. Hannibal asks: "When you killed Randall, did you fantasize you were killing me?" He locks his gaze on Will who after a short hesitation slowly turns his head, making eye contact but letting Hannibal continue: "Most of what we do, most of what we believe, is motivated by death." "I never felt as alive as I did when I was killing him" Will finally admits, his words more of a whisper. Hannibal's face brightens at these words. Daringly he says: "then you owe Randall Tier a debt. How will you repay him?"  while still holding Will's bandaged hand in his.

 

They both look at Radall Tier's corpse. In Will's head all the pieces fall together: "He wanted to transform into an animal. Then this shall be his becoming." Hannibal supportingly places his hand on Will's shoulder, nodding. "What precisely do you have in mind?" he asks his companion.


	2. His becoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal pushes Will further, unleashing his dark side

"Let's get started" Hannibal says as he and Will heave the body from the dining table and transport it into the kitchen where it's finally placed on the counter. Hannibal draws a sharp knife from the wooden block, giving it to Will, handle first. As the knife changes hands, their fingers slightly brush against each other making Will feel a tingle. Hannibal places a large bucket below the counter. "First we'll have to drain the blood from him" he says as he stings needles with attached tubes into Randall Tier's arteries. The tubes are turning red instantaneously, guiding the fluid of life into the bucket. A peaceful sound like water running is filling the kitchen while Will Graham, knife in hand, eyes up the body. "He had a thing for prehistoric animals - cave bears. I want him to become a cave bear. This is my design." Will shapes his thoughts into words. "I want him displayed as a human-cave bear hybrid: Two species becoming one." "So you'll need a cave-bear skeleton. There are plenty at the Natural Museum of History. This is the place where his transformation started - and will complete." states Hannibal. "A transformation only fully reachable in death." finishes Will. He steps closer to the body, now severing the epidermis at the jaw, his movements a little clumsy as he's used to dissect much smaller corpses - those of fish. "Let me help you" says Hannibal as he steps up behind Will, clasping his apprentice's hand in his. He reaches around Will's back with his left, grabbing Randall Tier's head. They are standing in front of the body, chest to back, almost merged into one sculptor. "Guide the knife with your fingers, like this." The doctor eases Will's fingers into place. "Now use the pressure from your arm" he whispers into Will's ear. Will is letting himself being guided, smoothly, while he can feel Hannibal's warm chest pressed against his back, his arms around him in a sort of embrace. This isn't just Randall Tier's becoming, it is also his own. Under Hannibal's care and mentoring he is finally embracing his dark side that has always been part of him. He is no longer ashamed of admitting how good it feels to be free entirely. But there is another feeling increasing his complacency: being with Hannibal, being close to him stirs up a warmth within him. He can't deny the attraction like an electron can't escape a current. As they keep dissecting, Hannibal notices Will's increased blood pressure and quickening heartbeat. Finally, he has him in the right place, by his side, joined together in crime and savagery. Will is at his mercy, beyond the breaking point. He is finally becoming tonight. His Will.

 

In conjoined effort the butchers severe the head from the body, tearing through sinews and muscles. The arms and legs follow, their joints breaking under Hannibal's expertly wielded axe and bone saw. Regarding their work they sort the limbs, placing the ones for Will in plastic bags and moving the torso and drained blood into the large fridge in Hannibal's pantry for further processing. Under the moonlight they place the bags together with tools and wire into Will's trunk because it already contains the soiled plastic sheet. In the protection of darkness, wearing masks and clad in translucent protective suits they silently approach the back entrance of the museum, carefully considering every step in order to stay in the dead corners of any cctv camera. Making use of his FBI training, Will Graham picks the lock while Hannibal Lecter watches out for them.

Inside they stride through rows of ancient relics like dinosaur skeletons and other fossils before reaching the desired object: A cave bear, put together by Randall Tier. "Indeed a magnificent creature with the jaws to kill" says Hannibal admirably as they stand before the skeleton. "This one seems to be the proper framework" agrees Will. Hannibal smiles assuringly at Will. He is proud of him. Working swiftly they move the skeleton down a flight of stairs into a gothic atrium, overspanned by a vast ceiling supported by severe sandstone pillars. They replace the bear's limbs with Randall's, drilling holes into the bones and attaching them with wire. With every part the skeleton looks livelier, although the flesh is partly torn and bloody. Completing the ghostly display, Will places Tier's head above the massive bear jaws. It looks as if the fangs were protruding from his human face. Satisfied with his creation, Will circumferes the tableau. "This is my design" he mutters, approaching Hannibal who places a hand on his shoulder and nods in congratulation over the completed transformation.

 

On the ride back to Hannibal's Will is soundly asleep as the psychiatrist calmly maneuvers the car across the roads, classical music playing quietly in the background.

 

Will awakes to a slight tugging at his shoulder and Hannibal saying his name: "Will. Will. We're back." Rubbing his eyes and yawning heartedly, he steps out of the car, the world around him still wrapped in nightly darkness. "We still have to clean up if you don't want to return to the Baltimore State Hospital" Hannibal reminds him jokingly, even if his words state the plain truth. They remove the now empty bags and the sheet from the trunk, wrapping them up together with the tools and the spare wire. Careful in order not to stain the floor in Hannibal's impeccably clean marble hallway, they move through the kitchen and the affiliated pantry into the basement. All plastic wrappings are cremated while the two of them meticulously scrub the tools clean. The protective suits are submerged in a tub filled with chemicals to remove any organic remains on them. The kitchen counter and floor are also smeared with blood. Hannibal hands Will a pair of gloves, a brush, and bleach. As he is on his knees scrubbing the floor, he can feel Hannibal's eyes on him, almost burning on his skin. Hannibal watches Will from above while removing the red-brown smear from the counter. He is fascinated by Will's movements, how he arches his back, on his knees…"Are you staring at me?" asks Will, now facing Hannibal from below. Entirely aware of his actions and confident, Hannibal leans back against the counter. "I'm admiring you. You have immense potential, Will." Reassured by these words, Will gets up and approaches Hannibal. He deeply looks into his eyes before placing his gloves and brush on the counter. As he spins around, he finds Hannibal standing directly in front of him, their faces just inches apart. "What you did tonight was beautiful, Will. I've anticipated this for so long." "I could have hardly done it without you, in any kind of way." Hannibal of course reads between Will's words, bringing his right hand to his cheek, caressing it with his thumb. Will closes his eyes and leans into Hannibal who gently but not without force pulls Will closer. His hands find Hannibal's strong shoulders as Hannibal wraps his left arm around Will's back, feeling the muscles tighten beneath his touch. Slowly, their lips make contact before moving apart again ever so slowly. Once more they look deeply into each other's eyes, pupils dilating before indulging in a passionate kiss. Eyes closed in pleasure their tongues encircling each other's they are locked in an embrace, holding on to the other, exploring bodies with their hands. When finally pulling apart, they are panting and gasping for air. "I never thought this would feel so good" says Will, still out of breath. "We're not done yet" are Hannibal's words as he lunges forward, sweeping Will off the floor into his arms. Carrying him bridal style, Hannibal ascends the stairs towards his master bedroom. Passing by a samurai armor and katanas, Will is carried into the nobly furnished bedroom and lowered into sheets of white silk and blue velvet. He starts unbuttoning his shirt while Hannibal removes his tie and smoothes his vest over a chair. Will, now shirtless, gets up and walks up to Hannibal. The doctor runs his hands over the fisherman's bare skin now while having his shirt unbuttoned by him. The fine fabric slides to the floor as the two men indulge in another kiss unable to get enough of each other. Will's pants start feeling tight as he can feel something hard pressing into his abdomen. Hannibal eases Will back towards the bed. When Will is on his back, Hannibal pulls at his belt, opens the zipper and slides Will's pants off him. Quivering with excitement, Will struggles to get rid of his socks, watching Hannibal remove his socks, trousers, and underwear. Hannibal makes his way back towards the bed where his treasure is waiting for him. "You certainly won't be needing these" he says playfully, tugging at Will's boxers. The undergarment slides to the floor, just before Hannibal climbs on top of Will. They roll through the cushions, kissing and hugging each other tightly. In the blink of an eye, Hannibal turns Will over. He presses him into the mattress with his full body weight. Will is breathing hastily, overwhelmed by the situation he finds himself in. His heartbeat is overturning when Hannibal grabs his hips, slowly pushing his erection into him. He can't help letting out a groan, totally overcome with pleasure. Hannibal is looming over him, breathing into his neck, grunting at every thrust. Suddenly Will feels a sharp pain in his shoulder, followed by a warm tickling as blood starts oozing from the place Hannibal dug his sharp teeth into. He can feel him pulling out so slowly that it's excruciating. Will then shifts onto his back and Hannibal comes to meet Will's mouth, licking his bloody lips. Savoring it, Hannibal makes Will taste his own blood, thick, sweet, and salty at the same time, with a touch of iron. Will digs his fingernails into Hannibal's back as their members are touching, rubbing against one another. They linger in their savage kiss a little longer before Hannibal positions himself behind Will again. Moving against each other their pace quickens; Hannibal now massaging Will's cock with one hand and pulling at his hips with the other. They both reach their climax almost simultaneously.

 

After all the physical exhaustion they collapse into bed. Hannibal stretches his limbs, lying on his back. Will comes to rest his head on Hannibal's wiry chest; "This was beautiful", he whispers, hardly able to keep his eyes open much longer. Hannibal wraps an arm around him and pulls up the covers. "This is all I ever wanted for you, Will."


	3. Embracing the new life

For the first time this week Will is able to sleep through the whole night without waking, although his dreams are no less vivid than usual. He finds himself revisiting the gallery of prehistoric skeletons at the Museum of Natural History. Slowly he moves through the rows of bony exhibits, his surroundings drenched in nightly darkness. The only light originates from emergency exit signs and the moonlight that is seeping through the windows. Or does it? There appears another source of light to which he feels drawn by an invisible force. Giving in to the irresistible force that has captured him, Will Graham proceeds towards a vast foyer. In the middle stands the ravenstag wrapped in a mysterious glow.

 

He approaches the animal until he is so close that he can feel its warm breath tickling his skin. Gently he combs his hands through the shiny, black feathers. Will lowers his head and turns it sideways, pressing his ear into the ravenstag's dark, soft covering. Listening to the rhythmic heartbeat he lingers for a moment before letting go again.

 

He takes a step backward and the huge stag seems to follow him. He can feel it tugging at his arm with its nuzzle. "Follow me" it seems to whisper on an immaterial level. So Will does.

On the way a human-cave bear-hybrid passes by them. It is Randall Tier, transformed to his satisfaction. "Thank you" Will can hear him growl, before he disappears into darkness with a wide leap. With unchanged speed and determination the ravenstag resumes its march.

From a balustrade above a shadow jumps down with unnatural speed and lands directly before them. As it rises from its crouching position Will recognizes the shape: it's the wendigo. Now having stretched out to its full height, the bony, black-skinned creature with antlers as large as the stag's slowly strides towards Will Graham, the ravenstag stepping aside.

Strangely this time he can't feel the aura of threat that usually surrounds the wendigo. Instead, he feels safe and reassured. The ravenstag watches, looming over this strange encounter like a witness does over a marriage.

Will stands still and faces the approaching creature. He doesn't even blink as it touches his shoulder and turns him around towards a mirror. In the mirror he sees the wendigo having placed a hand on his shoulder, the stag behind them and himself - or more of a version of himself:

His head is crowned by antlers, black antlers, as black as his skin. Charcoal with a blueish shimmer to it, just like the wendigo.

Suddenly, the mirror seems to radiate, it emits a white glow becoming brighter and brighter…

 

Will Graham awakes to bright rays of sunlight shining through the window. Before them a dark silhouette approaches the bed, Hannibal's bed. _Does he have antlers?_ , Will asks himself just before Hannibal is fully visible to him, of course without antlers on his head. "Good morning Will. Did you sleep well? Any nightmares you'd want to talk about?" "Morning…" , mumbles Will, still a bit sleepy and blinded by the sunlight. "No actual nightmares, just dreams… thank you for asking." He rubs his eyes and stretches his arms and legs while yawning heartfully.

 

Hannibal, wearing striped pajama pants, lowers himself upon the bed and turns to face his sleepover guest. He moves in closer, steadying his torso by propping it up on arms placed on both of Will's sides. Will leans on his elbows and offers a smile. He is still a little confused, even slightly unnerved by last night's events and the dream that followed. Yet, he feels entirely at ease and relaxed as if he had smoked a joint. Therefore he decides to let his demons rest for now and enjoy the moment. There would be plenty of time to occupy himself with them later.

 

"There's still some rheum in your eyes", Hannibal says as he playfully fiddles at the corners of Will's eyes. "Guess the sandman did a good job then", Will jokes. They grin at each other, their faces moving closer and Hannibal's hand travelling behind Will's head mingling into his dark curls…

They both have their eyes closed when their lips meet and what starts as careful nibbling becomes a passionate French kiss.

 

 

Daringly Will shifts his weight and the two embraced figures roll through and finally out of the bed. With a thump they land on the soft carpet beside the bed, now laughingly letting go of each other.

 

After a moment to calm down, Hannibal gets up, offering Will a hand "Special Agent Graham, why don't you take a shower while I'll prepare us some tasty and nourishing breakfast after all this action?" "Thank you. That does sound like a splendid idea, Doctor Lecter!" , Will answers. "Feel free to take a towel out of the bathroom cupboard. Shampoo, soap and after shave should all be there." , Hannibal adds while pulling a red sweater over his head.

 

To his expectations Will Graham finds Hannibal's bathroom to be tasteful and modern, its walls covered with large, shiny, and opaque tiles carved from stone. The white, round washbasins rest upon a beige marble sill. The shower is framed in glass. Will moves towards the cupboard and takes out a soft, fluffy towel.

 

Meanwhile the owner of this gracious place is working his magic in the kitchen. He cuts slices from Randall's remains that could be used for carpaccio. Instead, they end up being fried crispy in a pan with herbs, salt and pepper. After removing the meat, Hannibal expertly empties the contents of eggs into the pan. They sizzle sunny side up, absorbing the aroma from the meat and seasoning. He turns down the heat and opens a drawer, taking out a box of coffee beans. As soon as the lid is removed, a full aroma starts filling the air. Hannibal closes his eyes and savors the energizing smell. He pours the beans into an ancient handmill, one of his families' heirlooms. The aroma intensifies and a creaking noise echoes off the kitchen walls.

 

Upstairs, Will relishes the steaming hot shower. It feels odd to use Hannibal's cosmetics hat probably cost a fortune. At least Will never saw anything alike before at a store, though he had to admit that he rarely went shopping for anything but food, spare parts or the occasionally necessary clothing. After finishing his morning cleansing routine, Will steps into his clothes that are still sprawled over the bedroom floor. Again something inside him seems to poke - he reconsiders last night's events - the killing of Randall Tier, his visit to Hannibal, the tableau, and the act of pleasure that had happened right here, in this room, in this bed. He had felt strong ending Randall Tier's life, even stronger transforming him - but when he was joint with Hannibal in this intimacy - he had felt whole.

A waft of delicious smell distracts the FBI consultant from his thoughts. Like the source of light in his dream he follows the breakfast aroma down the stairs into the kitchen.

"This smells wonderful", he states to Hannibal's satisfaction. "What will we be having for breakfast?" "See for yourself, it's almost ready", the chef tells him. Two nicely decorated plates are already waiting on the counter. Hannibal adds quickly-roasted tomatoes from a pan, sprinkles everything with a little balsamic vinegar and fresh parsley. "Would you be so kind and carry the plates to the dining table while I fill two cups of coffee. Sugar ? Milk ?" "Sure. A little milk is fine." , answers Graham.

On the table a bulgy carafe containing freshly squeezed orange juice and silver cutlery awaits the two men. Bathed in a warm morning glow they start eating, calming their hungry stomachs. "These are probably the best eggs I ever had", Will compliments. "Sautéed in rosemary and thyme, salt, pepper and the juices of the meat", Hannibal explains. No question about the meat regarding its origin is asked.

 

When they are almost finished, Will's phone buzzes. It is Jack Crawford. Will rises his eyebrows as he glances at the screen. Hannibal nods reassuringly.

 

"Yes." "We have a new crime scene. Or rather a tableau at the Museum of Natural History. Randall Tier is dead. Come as soon as possible", Will's superior tells him. Shortly afterwards Dr. Lecter's phone starts ringing.

 

 

When Will arrives at the museum, the place is buzzing with flashing police cars and CSI vans. The special investigator waves his badge at a uniformed police officer guarding the entrance. He is led through by his colleague to a familiar place. Dr. Lecter arrives with a slight delay. Will approaches the crime scene with Crawford and Lecter following him closely. The FBI staff is still busy taking photographs.

Will Graham keeps his pokerface as he revisits his creation. He takes in the scenery as if he had never seen it before.

"The killer chose not to dispose of the body, but to display it. " , says Jack.

"A jarred reminder of the informality of death", is Hannibal's explanation.

Will walks around the enhanced skeleton, scanning every inch of it. He even looks skeptical doing so. Nothing betrays his feelings.

Jack Crawford continues to interpret: "Randall Tier was denied a respectable end that he himself denied others."

Hannibal knows wthat's at stake and intentionally tries to move thoughts into another direction. "This is a humiliation, a final indignity."

All of a sudden Will comes to a halt and faces the Doctor. "He isn't mocking him. This isn't disdain…He's…commemorating him."

Hannibal didn't expect Will to be that embracing. He has crossed the line now and there's no coming back. Quickly, he adjusts his strategy that now is joining Will in his game against Jack Crawford. "This killer has no fear for the consequences of what he's done." he yet emphasizes the risk his partner in crime is taking.

"No guilt", Graham adds. Jack is throwing him a strange glance.

 

The pendulum swings. One. two. three. The empath opens his eyes. "Hello again."

The corpse's eye sockets are now occupied by a set of living eyes. They focus on Will as he approaches. "Come closer. I wanna see you", a ghostly voice echoes through the room. Again, he's taking a stroll around his tableau. His steps are synchronized to his heartbeat. "Can you see you?" Tier's bodyless voice asks him. "Clearer and clearer", his executioner answers. A figure looms in the shadows, observing. A setting quite familiar.  "You forced me to kill you", he tries to stand his ground. "I didn't force you to enjoy it." The figure steps into the light. It is the human-cave bear hybrid. "You made me a monument."

"You're welcome." , offers Will. "The monument is not to me. It's to you."

"I gave you what you wanted. This is who you are. What you feel finally matches the reality of what I see."

The Randall hybrid places a hand on Will's shoulder. "This is my becoming. And it is yours."

Antlers are piercing Will Graham's clothes as they grow out of his back.

"This is my design"

 

The buzzing crime scene comes back into view, all mythical beasts are gone.

"He knew his killer. There is a familiarity here. It was someone who met him, understood him. It was someone like him. Different pathology, same instinct."

Jack and Hannibal are looming behind Will, the law and the temptation.

"The killer emphasized with him?" , Jack asks. Hannibal is very alert. _Don't take it too far, dear Will_ , he thinks to himself.

As if he heard Hannibal's thoughts, Graham distinguishes: "Don't mistake empathy for understanding, Jack. If there's anything, it's envy."

Jack Crawford eyes him up questioningly. "Envy?"

"Randall Tier came into his own much easier than whoever killed him." , he lines his answer with truth.

"This is a fledgling killer. He's never killed before, not like this." , the psychiatrist adds, also speaking the truth. They are having an intimate conversation about Will, although Jack doesn't know and hopefully never will.

"No, not like this.

"This is the nightmare that followed him out of his dreams.", the FBI consultant reveals and his superior looks with a combination of concern and wariness at Dr. Lecter, who in his mind already plans his next session, no, his next meeting with Will Graham. They would have a lot to talk about, now that Will had embraced his becoming. He would have to teach him a few things.


	4. The downward spiral

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> on the way to a point beyond salvage

Feathery clouds dim the silvery light and wrap the moon as well as the world below in shadows. The darkness is broken by artificial, warm light coming from high windows between the timelessly elegant sandstone walls of Dr. Hannibal Lecter’s office building in downtown Baltimore. In the middle of the warmly lit and nobly furnitured room two black leather armchairs are facing each other. One of them is occupied by the doctor, as usual dressed impeccably in a three-piece plaid suit and tie. Another person, somehow agitated, walks around from one object to the other, inspecting some of them halfheartedly. “You are playing a dangerous game” echo Hannibal’s words through the room. Will Graham, who just picked up a bellowing deer, now faces the psychiatrist. “We once caught a killer who went to his victims’ funerals just so he could console their loved ones” , he replies. “I am just advising you to lie low for now. Jack Crawford is no grieving widow and could combine pieces not to your liking” , Hannibal says with a mildly concerned expression on his face. “The both of us were already handled as suspects recently and cleared not too long after. The FBI and Jack won’t risk acting that impulsively again. They have Chilton now who you quite successfully framed.” No more hidden messages line Will’s words, he is laying out the facts. “Why didn’t you dispose of the body? It was the prudent course” interests the doctor. “Randall wanted to finally transform, to align both his feelings and appearance. He deserved that” Graham says. “Are you referring only to his becoming or also a manifest of yours?” “If I remember correctly, you called it ‘artistry’ and Jack a tableau” the empath offers playfully. Hannibal doesn’t indulge in the offered playfulness the conversation is now headed. Instead, he earnestly adds: “If _I_ remember correctly now, I also called it ‘savagery’. We dissected and mutilated the corpse before putting it on display.” “Seems I had a good teacher…and now the bird is leaving the nest, Dr. Lecter” , Will teases further. He has placed the deer back on its table and now comfortably leans against it. “A newly-fledged bird is at his most vulnerable. Flexible and adventurous, but not yet capable of providing his own food supply. He has to learn to hunt.” Hannibal glances warningly at his visitor before he smoothly leaves his armchair and approaches him in slow, determined strokes. Smiling, the latter replies: ”I’ve had plenty of examples to learn from” , giving the approaching doctor a nod, “and don’t they teach you in medical school _watch one, teach one, do one_?”

Hannibal is now standing merely a step away from Will and edges just a little closer. The air between them is filled with static. A dark whisper is transmitted over dancing gas molecules towards Graham who, now realizing his mentor’s capturing presence, shrinks back a few inches so that he almost touches the deer’s antlers behind him.

“How did it feel to manipulate the fibers of a once living man into a message all of your own?

“Did you take a trophy, too?”

Hannibal’s gaze burns through Will, tiny drops of sweat start forming on his forehead.

“It felt…unfinished…until it was…” , he stammers.

“And? Did you take a trophy?”, The fallen angel whispers into the fisherman’s ear.

“What…do you…think?” , Will tries to recover some ground. In the blink of an eye Hannibal firmly grabs Will’s shoulders and looks him directly into the eye: ”I think it would be the act of a serial killer.” And with that he captures the lips of his willing apprentice with his own, leaving the question to subside into nothingness as passion solemnly takes over. Hannibal leans forward, pressing his torso into Will’s and in succession almost impales him on the stag’s antlers, like Garret Jacob Hobbs mounted Elise Nichols, perforating her skin and organs, like Hannibal himself impaled Cassie Boyle and Marissa Schuur. Will can feel something sharp ripping at the back of his shirt but being so close to Hannibal, being locked in his embrace renders the actual pain into a mere tingling accompanied by a heat that begins to spread through his entire body. With their limbs entangled they writhe against each other, eyes shut in mindless desire. “H-h-hannibal…”, is all that leaves Will’s mouth in a whisper after breaking the kiss. His legs feel as wobbly as if they were made from raw dough. His entire weight is supported by the stag, the side table beneath it and Hannibal looming over him. He desperately claws his hands into the doctor’s back. Hannibal then straightens and delicately lifts Will off his feet, slowly carrying him towards his severe mahogany desk. He manages to slide a hand under Graham’s shirt and moves his hand upwards in circles, feeling every muscle and bone. Even through the shirt the antlers ripped Will’s skin in a few places and warm, sticky blood trickles down between Hannibal’s fingers. Using his other hand, he unbuttons the special agent’s plaid shirt. Will lets the fabric slip off his limbs under Hannibal’s guidance and leans back his head in a state of comfort. Lecter, who is still fully clothed, starts nuzzling along Will’s collar bone, planting feather light kisses with every touch. When he reaches Will’s shoulder, he curiously inspects the damage done to the preciously soft skin. Quite satisfied about how he is marking his territory, he whispers into disciple’s ear: “You are beautiful, Will Graham. I could devour you right here, right now, if you let me.”

Special agent Will Graham opens his eyes and tilts his head forward so that he can look Hannibal in the eye. What he finds there sends an ice cold shudder down his spine. Doctor Lecter’s pupils are dark and dilated, full of hunger while his face with its intriguing bone structure is dead serious and sternly determined. For the blink of an eye Hannibal’s physiology merges into that of the wendigo, the edges appear fuzzy with static and menace. Yet Will is petrified in place, unable to take control over his body. His experience tells him to run but the feeling of threat competes against the curiosity of what Hannibal will do next and how it would _feel_ …he can neither deny his attraction, nor can he ignore the ever growing desire to go back to _that night_ they spent together, how secure he had felt wrapped in Hannibal’s arms and how empowering the preceding events were…

At the glint of fear that so briefly flashed through Will’s gaze, Hannibal slowly licks his lips. Even he is surprised at how everything unfolded, how interesting it has become. The power he has over this delicate human being with eyes blue as water and the dark, curly hair in contrast to the light skin nearly drives him crazy. Never before has he experienced anything approximately commensurable. Every fiber in his body is tense and it takes all his strength to refrain from…

“I’m yours”, breathes Will, barely audible. “What is it? Repeat.”, demands Hannibal. “I’m yours”, obeys Will, this time more secure. Hannibal roughly grabs Will’s head and holds it firmly in place so that nothing can betray their locked gazes. “Say it.”, he commands with a growl. “I am yours, Hannibal”, he now states with a to himself perplexingly clear and secure voice, just before the two of them fall into the darkness that is love without return.­

 

Will Graham willingly parts his legs to let Hannibal lean in closer as he presses his lips on Will’s and grabs his shoulders. Will can feel Hannibal’s hands travel down his back when he opens his mouth to let their tongues dance around each other’s. Hungrily they intensify their kiss while Hannibal first grabs Will’s buttocks, then moves on to unbuckling his belt and opening Will’s pants. The latter is incapacitated by joyful anticipation as he can feel the doctor’s hands slightly brushing his erection while opening the zipper. At least his pants don’t feel so tight anymore. In one swift motion Hannibal lifts his bottom up and relieves him of his trousers and undergarments, soon followed by shoes and socks. The sudden lack of body warmth drives Will crazy. What a sight, Hannibal thinks to himself as he examines the stark naked and quivering FBI consultant on his solid desk. He can feel his own erection starting to become almost unbearable but Will has been such a good boy…so obedient and amenable. Hannibal savors the beautiful sight a little longer before he steps closer again, trailing his tongue down Will’s sternum and further down over his abs, his belly button, and even further down. A quick, blank feeling of fear washes over Will but quickly passes at the incredible feeling of Hannibal starting to stroke his shaft and encircling his cock’s tip with his tongue. His vision fades into a blackness lined with golden stars when Hannibal takes him in whole. Just before he is about to cum Hannibal withdraws and Will’s heart makes a desperate jump at the denial.

Finally opening his own pants, Hannibal sighs at the freedom and the thoughts of what is in prospect. “Get on your feet”, he orders Will. Agonizingly slowly Will obeys. Hannibal then places his right hand on Will’s right shoulder and ushers him to turn around. Will cries out of pure anticipation when Hannibal roughly digs his nails into his hips and pulls him close. He arches his back when Hannibal pushes into him, eyes closed and head bent backwards. The fullness makes him feel whole and the stars clog his vision again as they quicken their pace. Finally they both collapse onto each other on the desk, reaching their climax. Out of breath, Hannibal hugs Will tightly and nuzzles his neck while Will grabs the desk’s edge to prevent them from sliding off it.

After regaining their balance. they both get back on their feet again, Will collecting his clothes that litter the floor and Hannibal disappearing towards a closet. When he returns with two glasses and a fancy looking bottle of red wine, Graham is already buckling his belt again, his feet and torso still naked. Lecter holds up his shirt and caringly helps him slip his arms into the sleeves. Then he walks on to the vintage blue couch, taps the space beside him for Will to occupy and calmly waits for him to follow. With a sigh Will falls onto the soft cushions and leans back, gladly accepting the glass of wine from Hannibal. They lock their gazes, clink the glasses together and the slightest of smiles crosses Hannibal’s face. They drink in silence for some minutes, silently appreciating the moment they share together.

“Will, I would like to invite you for dinner on Saturday night. I hope you haven’t planned anything yet. I’d truly enjoy your company. And I have something to show you.” “Fortunately, I haven’t made up my mind about the weekend yet”, Will accepts the invitation.


	5. A pleasant surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal invites Will for dinner and presents him a surprise. The chapter is now complete.

It is a pleasant day. The morning air is cool but sunrays glisten through the gaps between the clouds lining the sky. Will stretches in his bed, before the swings his legs over the edge and walks barefoot towards the window. He pulls the curtains aside while Buster gently pokes his calf with a moist muzzle. The dogs are already wide awake and waiting for their morning walk but Will has to take a shower first to get rid of the sweat that always accompanies his nightmares. It clings to him like a bad memory of the disturbing images in his subconsciousness. The hot water dripping down his body feels cleansing, not only on a physical level. As he listens to the gurgling and splashing, he closes his eyes and tries to push all the negativity away, thinking about how his dogs are waggling their tails when they’re happy, how the sun wraps the nature outside his house in a warm glow, how Hannibal prepares some marvelous dinner for tonight….

 

After drying himself off with a towel Will looks in the mirror, closely eyeing the dark shades below his eyes. He hopes the fresh air and motion will at least diminish them a little. He then trims his beard, brushes his dark curls and gets dressed in his usual uniform: A white undershirt, a plaid button-up, a pair of cosy pants, and his outdoor jacket. As soon as he opens the front door, all of his dogs storm outside except for Winston who, since he rescued him, never seems to go far from his side. “Go on Winston, join the pack”, Will says to him but Winston just turns his head and gives Will a questioning glance. With an “Ok fine. We’re gonna join the pack together, huh?” he starts running himself and Winston dutifully follows this time. Will Graham feels like himself now, elevated, calm. Amongst his dogs, merging with the grass and shrubs he can let go. This is his meditation. The dogs thrive with happiness and so does he, when they’re playfully chasing each other, when he can hear them bark, when he caresses their silky fur, when he throws sticks away and they return them to him. These are his dogs, he gave them a better life and they are there to comfort him if he needs them. This is his design.

 

When they get back to his house, Will Graham first fills the dogs’ bowls with their food and fresh water before preparing a meal for himself. He scrambles some eggs in a pan and adds some salami chunks while warming up yesterday’s spinach. “I wonder what Hannibal wants to surprise me with”, he mumbles to himself. Somehow the food made him think of Hannibal and the evening they are going to share tonight. “For sure it’s more fancy than my cooking”, he chuckles, looking at the bubbling eggs.

After having eaten everything, Will starts to tidy up the kitchen. Suddenly he pauses and looks down his front. There is a nice green spinach stain on his shirt and his pants have grass stains at the knees. He shrugs at the sight. For the night he would have to change into something more classy anyway.

 

Hannibal Lecter sits in his living room in front of the richly ornamented 1700s cembalo he imported from Italy a few years ago. He enjoys the quiet Saturday as he finally found the time to continue his latest composition. In a calligraphic hand he adds note by note on the cotton-rag paper. While figuring out the next passage with his fingers gliding elegantly over the keys, he has to think of Will Graham. What would he be doing on his day off? He can imagine him spending some time outside. Fishing, taking the dogs for a walk…or maybe something crafty? Tying new lures, fixing things around the house…

Hannibal pictures Will replacing a board on his veranda and painting it with water-repellant varnish. Will’s features are framed by a sunlit background, his clothes are covered in sawdust, perhaps the varnish left some stains? Imagining a crafty Will who is adorably soiled makes Hannibal smile. He is undeniably looking forward to regale him with a savoring menu. The loin filet strips of that rude insurance dealer will be sliced into almost transparent pieces and cooked in soy sauce, onions, and garlic.

But the big surprise has yet to come. After being so obedient and formidable the last times they met, Will deserves a reward. A dissonant chord dissolves into a harmonic cadence.

 

The sun is about to set when Will steps in front of the mirror again. He picked a dark blue and shiny shirt to go with his black suit. He applies some hair wax to keep his wild mane in place and stretches out any imaginary wrinkles in his suit coat. Because the temperature outside has dropped without the warm radiance of sunlight, he picks up a dark woolen coat before stepping out on the porch. The horizon is wrapped in an orange glow, limited by a border of black tree silhouettes and their growing shadows.

 

The street lamps are being turned on, illuminating the downtown Baltimore street that was embraced by shadows through the few remaining rays of daylight. A mouth-watering smell of a delicious dinner fills the cool evening air. Hannibal stands in his kitchen, wearing a shirt with rolled up sleeves and an apron. He adds strips of wakame to the boiling miso soup stock. In a pan, two blocks of silken tofu covered by choux pastry sizzle gently in sesame oil, sake, garlic, and soy sauce while Hannibal adds enoki mushrooms and spring onion pieces, followed by freshly ground pepper. After letting everything braise for a few minutes, the tofu blocks are being carefully lifted onto two plates and garnished with the mushrooms and greens. Hannibal then roasts filmy slices of meat in the same pan to let them absorb the flavors. He then garnishes the plates with them before moving the ready course into the slightly heated oven to keep them warm. Minutes before his guest arrives, he adds the dressing to the sunomono cucumber salad and removes the rice from the rice cooker. Hannibal unties his apron, changes his shirt, binds a tie and puts on vest and suit coat. Just after lighting the candles in their silver candleholders, the doorbell rings.

 

“Good evening, Will”, says Hannibal as he opens the heavy wooden doors of his home. “Good evening Dr. Lecter”, Will answers with a nod.

“Come in.” Will gladly enters the warmth of the nobly decorated hall.

“I assume you had a pleasant ride without too much traffic at that time? Here, let me take your coat.” Will nods and directs a “Thank you” at Hannibal. The doctor’s touches leave a warm tingling at the spots of contact as he gently helps his guest out of his coat. “Here, I brought you a little something. I hope it meets your standards”, Will says as he hands his host a wooden crate.

“Dear Will, your mere presence would have been sufficient, but thank you.”, says Hannibal while they walk towards the dining room. He subtly admires Will’s looks in the tailored suit of his. He could really get accustomed to such a sight.

“Mhhmm it smells delicious. What’s for dinner tonight?” inquires Will. “Tonight I will let your taste buds indulge in assorted far east flavors. We will have miso soup as a starter.” says Hannibal, before he disappears in the kitchen, carrying the crate with him. Before Will can offer his help, Hannibal returns with two bowls of steaming soup.

“The desert wine you brought will go excellently with the fruit sushi I made. I hope you are hungry” explains Hannibal. “I’m glad about that. And I am indeed hungry”.

They smile at each other before taking their first spoon of soup.

“Nothing warms better than hot soup on a cold day”, says Will approvingly. “ I expect you enjoyed the sunlight despite freezing temperatures?”, asks Hannibal. “Well, yes, I went outside with all the dogs, I mean they need to be in motion every day. And so do I”, Will chuckles. Contentedly, Hannibal nods. “I expected as much. Mens sana in corpore sano the Roman poet Juvenal once wrote, though the phrase was embedded in another context. He wanted to make his fellow Romans aware that their prayers for such things as a long life will never bear fruit and that they should instead wish for actual attributes that enable them to live a long life. Through time, the phrase was associated with a more abstract meaning – the one that mental and physical health are connected as they are both incorporated in one body. Does physical activity improve your mood, too, Will?” “Interesting story. Indeed it helps me to forget the nightmares and work-related atrocities for a moment and it enables me to order my thoughts anew”, answers Will. “I, too enjoy physical activity. I have come to find swimming to my liking as it involves the entire body. As a next course, we will be having silken tofu with rice, although I prefer serving it as a non-vegetarian dish.” With that, Hannibal picks up their empty soup bowls and disappears in the kitchen. For a moment, Will’s thoughts drift back to Wolf Trap. He is walking through grass, the night has settled. In the distance, he can see a source of light: His house seems to be adrift on a sea of grass, the yellow dots of illuminated windows seeming like portholes of a ship, a vessel that is coming to rescue him from the cold darkness that surrounds him. His thoughts are interrupted by Hannibal having returned from the kitchen. “I don’t drink beer very often, but Japanese Asahi beer would go excellently with the main course as it is light and dry. Would you like one?” “…uhm, yeah, thank you”, mutters Will, still slightly confused. The sound of Hannibal pouring the beer into glasses and the delicious smell coming from the kitchen pull him back into reality. Hannibal places an ornament plate in front of his guest before lowering his own plate to the table. “To non-vegetarian tofu dishes”, Will raises his glass at the beautiful sight before him. Hannibal smiles and clinks his glass with Will’s.

 

The silken tofu melts in their mouths; the rice and beer clear their palette anew so that every bite is full of flavor. “I have never eaten tofu that was so soft”, says Will. “It is delicious.” “There are many different types of tofu. All have different flavors and consistencies. You have to think carefully about what you want to do with the tofu in order to get the right kind. I always buy mine at an Asian grocery store. Most of the tofu available in other places has nothing to do with the original tofu. It serves as a tasteless protein source and meat replacement in vegan diets for people with degraded tastebuds who can’t honestly live without steaks and sausage.”, says Hannibal with a slightly condescending tone towards the end. “I could never grasp the concept of ‘vegan meat’, either”, says Will and gratefully puts an almost translucent strip of meat into his mouth. They finish their main course and Hannibal clears the table. “Would you accompany me to the kitchen?”, Dr. Lecter asks. “I am happy to help”, Will answers. In the kitchen, the dessert is revealed: Strawberry and mango have been expertly wrapped into sushi rice that has been soaking in milk. The outside of the maki rolls is covered by thin mango slices and freeze-dried strawberry powder. “My aunt Murasaki taught me how to make sushi”, Hannibal says while cutting the rolls into equally long pieces. He then places them on plates and instructs Will to garnish them with whipped cream, fruit syrup, and lemon balm. At last, the dessert wine is opened with a plop. Hannibal smells the cork. “Perfect”, he mutters and Will approaches with two glasses. Together they carry the final course to the dining room. The light and freshly sweet taste serves as a grandiose finale to their dinner.

 

Satisfied, Hannibal finishes his last sip of dessert wine. “I hope the food was to your liking.” “Very much so, Hannibal. Every bite was a pleasure”, says Will contently. The doctor raises and takes their plates off the table. His guest quickly follows him carrying the empty wine glasses. Will then leans against the kitchen counter. “Thank you very much for the wonderful food.” “And thank you for coming…and for the wine.” Hannibal places a hand on Will’s shoulder. “Come. There is yet a surprise waiting for you”. Together they leave the kitchen, pass through the dining room and into the entrance hall. “Follow me”, Hannibal offers, gesturing upstairs. Curiously, Will follows Hannibal onto the wooden stairs with their beautifully carved handrails.

 

They arrive on the second floor. The parquet floor is covered by a long, lush carpet in the middle. The wall opposite to the windows is decorated by paintings in between the doors. “Wait here”, commands Hannibal and Will complies. Dr. Lecter disappears into the first door. A moment later, he returns with a blindfold. “Close your eyes. I will guide you safely”, he says. The tension rises inside Will due to all this secrecy. He feels a bit uncomfortable at the loss of his primal sense. Hannibal gently places the blindfold over Will’s eyes and ties a knot behind his head. He then places one hand on Will’s lower back to guide him. The FBI agent can feel the warmth of Hannibal’s body, now that they are so close again. He lets himself being guided and carefully sets one foot in front of the other. After having taken a few right and left turns and passing over different floor coverings, they finally come to a halt.

 

Will Graham can feel Hannibal moving behind him and loosening the knot. He slowly removes the blindfold and Will opens his eyes. A few feet away from him sits a young woman in a velvet armchair. It is Abigail Hobbs.  


	6. Family Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The three of them spend a pleasant evening together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the kitsch, I was in the mood ;-)

The corners of Abigail’s mouth are slowly turning upwards – partly from happiness and partly by the fact that Will is making the most puzzled and incredulous face she has ever seen. His jaw has dropped and his eyes look like they’re about to pop out of their cavities. In the blink of an eye Abigail jumps from her armchair and Will runs towards her. They catch each other in a loving embrace. “So good to see you again”, Abigail nuzzles into Will’s chest, who is still overwhelmed by the situation. “I….I thought you were dead”, he stammers. A tear finds its way down his cheek as he still clings to his surrogate daughter. She calmingly strokes his back. “We are a family again.”

 

Hannibal watches with curiosity, feeling content to have finally brought them all back together. The feeling doesn’t last for long though as Will approaches him and instantaneously slaps him in the face. “I thought she was dead. You made me even think I killed her. How could you?”, he angrily shouts at Hannibal. “You are right, my dear Will. It was a quite radical measure I took. You have every right to be angry at me, though I have to say in my defense that at the time I set things in motion I didn’t really have another choice.” “Rude, Hannibal! Shockingly rude!”, screams Will. Hannibal lowers his head in excuse: “I am so sorry Will. All I ever wanted was for us three to be happy and in order to reach this happiness, pain and sadness had to be overcome. Jack was about to uncover what had happened to Nicholas Boyle and in its verge had discovered my complicity in discarding the body. It would have led him on a track causing our destruction. I would have loved nothing more than to avoid putting you behind bars. Please, accept my sincerest apologies. You don’t have to do it right now, or tomorrow. I can very well understand your anger, so I’ll be waiting patiently for you. Don’t rush anything but overthink carefully. I’ll be happy to discuss this matter with you. I am always interested in your opinion and it can be quite therapeutic to talk things through.”

 

Hannibal has risen his head again and they are facing each other eye to eye. Abigail quietly watches from the armchair, traces of worry visible on her face. Will still trembles in fury but doesn’t break their eye contact. He can actually see sincerity in his glance. Hannibal seems to really mean his words. “Good”, he thinks to himself, slowly calming down. “But I won’t give him what he wants. At least not so fast. He has to suffer in me being angry at him, he’s gonna have to deal with the consequences of what he’s done….and learn his lesson if he wants this thing to work.”. Hannibal takes a step forward towards Will. He gently takes the profiler’s hands in his. At first, Will wants to withdraw but the skin-to-skin contact and the warmth it spreads makes him go along. “Allright, let’s stop right here. I don’t want us to ruin this reunion for Abigail’s sake. But this isn’t the last you’ve heard from me on this matter.” Will manages to produce a smile at Abigail who gladly reciprocates the gesture. He then turns back to Hannibal. The latter nods in agreement: ”Of course. The matter isn’t settled but I appreciate your thinking. Tonight shouldn’t be tarnished by us fighting.” Hannibal lets go of Will’s hands and turns towards Abigail. “Come. Follow me.”

 

The three of them head back into the hallway and down the stairs. Hannibal leads them into his living room where he gestures Will and Abigail to take a seat on the couch. He then moves towards a richly ornamented, antique looking sideboard from which he retrieves three glasses and a bottle of cognac as well as some deliciously looking chocolates. He smoothly fills the tree glasses to the same height and hands two of them to his guests who gladly accept them. Hannibal sets the chocolates on the glass table in front of the couch and seats himself opposite from Abigail and Will, glass in hand. He gently swings his glass and breathes in the aroma, eyes closed. Will raises his glass: “To our reunion” and the others join in: “To our reunion.” They savor their drinks in silence for a moment, enjoying the voluminous flavor followed by a stingy warmth from the alcohol.

 

“Abigail, are you even old enough to drink?”, asks Will with a grin. “Well almost in the States but already in Europe” , she smiles back sheepishly. “Taste has to be practiced over time. A refined palette doesn’t come from nothing, so I decided that a glass every once in a while will bear more merit than harm”, Hannibal explains. “Better than having older friends buy cheap beer for you”, Will chuckles. “Did you do that? Have someone buy you beer when you were my age?” “Well, it’s not uncommon. As you know, my school years were very lonely, but I sometimes hung out with classmates at the academy.” “And when did you drink something alcoholic for the first time?”, Abigail asks Hannibal. “My aunt has shown me how sake is served traditionally. Unfortunately, many think that sake has to be served warm in any case, but the perfect drinking temperature depends actually on the aroma. Some types of sake are even served chilled with ice. Just as there are many different types of beers that vary by distinct ingredients, brewing techniques, and storage, the same applies to Japanese rice wine. Although certain regulations have to be fulfilled, the true art lies in combining the ingredients and controlling the fermentation process. Furthermore, the bottle in which the sake is being sold is never shown to guests. There are special sake cans called choshi and drinking vessels made of ceramic. I am in possession of a beautiful hand painted service that I can show you later, if you wish.” “I haven’t seen it yet”, says Abigail. “All this time you have been here and I actually didn’t share sake with you. We have to catch up on this someday”, Hannibal answers. “Gladly so”, says Abigail. “Anyways, what has happened ever since you ‘died’? What have you been doing every day?”, asks Will. “As you may recall, we were on our way to Minnesota. At that time you had been suffering severely from encephalitis, as Hannibal later told me. That was the reason why you were so unstable and honestly, excuse my choice of words, scared the crap out of me. I was afraid you would follow in my father’s footsteps and finish what he started.

“I rushed back home when you were asleep because I didn’t know where else to go. And there was Hannibal standing in the kitchen. He explained to me that I was about to be caught because of what I did to Nicholas Boyle…and because I dug up his body.”

Abigail takes a deep breath before she continues. “I had sensed something was wrong the moment I realized that Hannibal had been waiting for me to come. At first, it seemed like I had run away from one killer straight into another killer’s arms. But luckily he had had a better plan. He took my ear” - she brushes her hair back to reveal her missing ear – “and we mimicked the blood stain pattern my cut throat would have left. I was dead to the world, then. Ever since I’ve been living here. The room you met me in is part of my quarters that Hannibal had prepared for me. My body took time to heal from the blood loss and wound, and so did my mind. “

Will listens spellbound while the doctor observes him.

“I have read lots of books. And Hannibal has taught me lots of things: A little cooking, a little harpsichord, and how to defend myself. I can’t go outside except for the garden, you know. But I need to get some exercise somehow.” Her last words are laced with just a hint of sadness.

 

“I have already made plans to change that, my dear. About a month from now, we’ll go on vacation. I hope you are able to join us, Will. I can give you the details later so that you can check your calendar”, says Hannibal who is well aware of Abigail’s restricted options. “Please, Will”, adds Abigail as she brightens up. “I’d love to join. And even if something comes in between, I’m sure I can arrange that I’ll come later or like leave for one day and come back”, he says reassuringly. “What have you planned?”, he asks Hannibal. “I own a house that lies remote from anyone nosy. It sits on a cliff by the sea and is surrounded by nature. I thought we could hike through the mountains there, hunt” – he shoots a concerned glance at Abigail who nods approvingly – “and maybe fish… and just enjoy each other’s company, clear our lungs and heads from everyday life.” “Sounds wonderful. I can’t wait!” says Abigail who is now visibly delighted. “Indeed”, nods Will Graham and takes another sip of cognac.

“Do you still have all your dogs? Or even more?”, Abigail asks Will. “Well I still have them all. And I haven’t collected another stranger since you saw them last time.”, Will chuckles. “I’d love to see them again someday”, Abigail says. “Perhaps Will could bring one or two with him to our vacation?”, suggests Hannibal. Will is staring at the ceiling and thinking hard. “Hmmm it’s a hard decision to make. We….they are like a pack. Maybe Winston as he never seems to leave my side…..” “You still have some time to think it over, right? And you know your dogs best. I’m happy with any of them”, adds Abigail. “I’m gonna find a solution by then”, Will nods at Abigail.

They continue sipping their cognac, simply enjoying each other’s company and digesting the wonderful dinner they had.

“Oopsie I already ate half of the chocolates….”, notices Abigail. “Just leave a few for us, will you?”, Hannibal smiles at her. “I need a distraction.” With that, Abigail stands up and moves towards the harpsichord. “Has anyone ever played the harpsichord for you?”, she asks Will. “I can’t say that, no.” “That is about to change just now.” And with that, she sits down on the stool in front of the black and white keys. “I’m gonna play the last piece I’ve learned for you. I’m not satisfied completely yet, but I think it’s a very beautiful piece of music.” “Indeed it is”, adds Hannibal. “I’m going to play the Nocturnes No.7 by Chopin”.

As Abigail starts playing, Hannibal watches her proudly; satisfied with his work. Will leans back into the cushions of the couch and closes his eyes. He can feel his body relax and his blood pressure calm down. He is going to have plenty of time to deal with Hannibal’s actions in their next sessions. For now, he lets the notes flood his mind and push away everything negative. He slowly opens his lids again at the approaching crescendo. Into his view comes Hannibal watching him with interest. He can feel the doctor’s eyes wander curiously over his body. It makes him feel naked and exposed. At first, he shies away but then raises his glance until their eyes meet. He lifts his brows ever so slightly while not breaking eye contact. Framed by Abigail’s music, they are battling each other solemnly by looks and facial expressions. Holding, letting go, averting, distracting, and catching again. It’s a dance of two peacocks waving their feathers and spreading their wings expressed by mimics and photons. Abigail finishes the cadence without any mistake and turns towards them. She can clearly see that they are involved into something and shoots a funny glance at them. As Will and Hannibal face her as if nothing happened the confusion on her face intensifies.

“You have practiced very well, my dear”, says Hannibal. “I am no expert, but I tremendously enjoyed your performance. It was beautiful”, Will complements her. “Thanks. I’ve noticed”, she answers with a knowing grin on her face. “Should I play something else as well?” All three of them smile at each other. “If you wish, but don’t let us force you to anything”, says Dr. Lecter, ever being the gentleman. “I’m gonna get a refreshment first though”, says Abigail as she moves towards the cognac. “Please, let me”, offers Hannibal who jumped to his feet in light speed. “Do you fancy a refill, too?”, he asks the profiler who nods approvingly. “To Abigail’s musical skills”, says Will as he raises his glass. “To Abigail’s musical skills”, repeats Hannibal. After having moistened their throats, Abigail takes her seat in front of the harpsichord again. With a smirk she puts another set of notes on the music stand and begins to play the Wedding March by Mendelssohn-Bartholdy. Will can’t suppress a chuckle and smiles at Hannibal who is also smiling.

 

When it is already well past midnight and Will is saying his good-byes, Hannibal ushers him to call a taxi. Standing in the hallway, Hannibal helps Will into his coat. Abigail puts her arms around Will and squeezes him tightly. “It was so good to see you again! I hope you’ll visit again some other time!”. “I will”, he says and squeezes her back. They hold each other for another second before letting go. Will then walks over to his host. “Thanks for dinner”. They shake hands and Hannibal protectively places  a hand on Will’s shoulder. “Get home safely”, he says. As Will opens the door and passes through the frame, Hannibal puts an arm around Abigail’s shoulders, who sighs happily.


End file.
